


Teddy Bear Ninja

by cominginside



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Washington Capitals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-30
Updated: 2011-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-25 19:27:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cominginside/pseuds/cominginside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Mike Green's life has an unexpected influx of teddy bears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teddy Bear Ninja

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for [this prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/hockeyanonmeme/460.html?thread=393676#t393676) on [](http://hockeyanonmeme.livejournal.com/profile)[**hockeyanonmeme**](http://hockeyanonmeme.livejournal.com/).

The first bear shows up in his locker a few days after he and Brooks shoot the Caps Cribs thing. It's tiny--only a few inches high--and tucked back into a corner so well that Mike almost misses it. When he pulls it out to see what the hell it is, a little piece of paper flutters out after it.

"A friend for Gary," the note reads, in Brooks's handwriting.

Mike glances around the room, but Brooks is already gone. No one else seems to have noticed that Mike's holding onto a teddy bear, so he quickly shoves it into his bag and decides he'll figure out what to do with it later.

It actually takes him a few days to remember the bear again. It tumbles out of his bag when he's cleaning it out, landing on top of an old hoodie. Mike picks it up and looks at it more closely now that he's not surrounded by guys who'll probably give him shit for it. It's cute, a little bow around its neck, and really soft. Unfortunately, it also smells distinctly like a gym bag. Mike makes a face and seriously considers tossing the bear out, but then he thinks about the note, and the bear is really cute, and, well. Maybe Gary could use a friend. Being a guard bear is kind of a lonely life.

So Mike calls up his mom and asks her for advice, and ends up putting the new bear outside in the sunshine for a few days until it smells passable. He then tucks the new bear up against Gary and forgets about it. He means to thank Brooks, or possibly mock him, or some combination of the above, but it's a little late to just drop a "hey, thanks, you jerk" into conversation, and he never does figure out a way to bring it up without sounding dumb. So he doesn't.

The next bear shows up about a month later, no note this time. It's bigger and white and is sitting on Mike's bed when he gets home from visiting family, having left Brooks in charge of his plants. He stares at it for a few minutes, too tired to entirely comprehend what's going on, and then he laughs, because apparently this is a _thing_ now. He means to move the bear somewhere else, he really does, but he's so tired that he doesn't even manage to pull down the covers before he falls asleep.

If he wakes up holding the bear, well. It was in his sleep. It doesn't count. And if he doesn't move the bear (most of the time), no one needs to know.

The third bear is a car decoration. Mike tries to figure out how the hell Brooks got his car keys as he flicks the tiny bear dangling from his rear view mirror. It clashes horribly with the whole cool Lambo thing but it also makes Mike laugh when he looks at it, so he leaves it. Later, Ovie laughs at it and asks Mike if it was a present from a girl. Mike mumbles a non-answer and fixes the bear where the cord's gotten tangled. He thinks about taking it down but he's kind of used to it now, and Brooks would--well. Mike doesn't know what Brooks would do, because they've never talked about this. He leaves the bear up and ignores his captain's knowing grin. Alex doesn't know nearly as much as he thinks he does.

The fourth bear shows up crammed into Mike's mailbox. Mike has to dig it out awkwardly and stares at it, because it's wearing a little Washington Redskins hoodie. He remembers Brooks mentioning going to the Redskins game over the weekend with some girl and wonders what she thought about him buying a teddy bear for his teammate, wonders if he bought her one too. Mike kind of hopes he didn't, then feels mean for thinking that. The Redskins bear goes on the video game shelf to keep the Madden games company. Sometimes its hood changes position after Brooks has been over, although Mike never sees him so much as look at the bear. Brooks is like a teddy bear ninja or something.

The fifth bear is a Christmas tree ornament, hung neatly on the little tree Mike has set up in the corner. By this point, the bears have been showing up for almost a year, and Mike still hasn't said anything to Brooks about them. They're scattered around his house and car; Brooks has obviously seen them all. It's not that Mike's ungrateful or anything. He kind of likes the bears. They're cute. They make his place feel a little less lonely on the rough nights, not that he'll admit that to anyone. He just has no idea what to say about them--and, honestly, he's a little worried that saying something would wreck this somehow. Like, it's okay if it's a secret, but talking about it would make it weird. He stares at the little bear tucked into the branches of his tree and figures that if silence has worked so far, it'll probably keep working.

He does get Brooks a Christmas card with teddy bears on it, though, just to watch the way the corners of Brooks's mouth twitch up when he sees it. He sees it later on Brooks's side table, next to the ones from Brooks's family, and feels unexpectedly touched at the sight.

The sixth bear is holding a heart. Mike finds it in his hotel room on Valentine's Day, sitting on top of his bag, and quickly looks around to make sure that Nicky's nowhere nearby before he picks it up. It's a little cheesy but it's soft and cute and Mike finds himself smiling stupidly at it. There's no note; there hasn't been a note since the very first bear. For the first time, Mike wonders if the bears really are from Brooks--he doesn't know who else they could be from, but, well. This one's holding a heart. On Valentine's Day.

When he asks Nicky, though, Nicky says that Brooks had come by earlier looking for Mike, and no one else has been in the room since then except the cleaning lady. So unless there's a cleaning lady stalking him, it's gotta be Brooks. Maybe the heart was just, y'know, thematically appropriate, Mike tells himself, and tries not to think about it.

The bears go into a box labelled "BEARS" when Mike packs up and moves into his beautiful penthouse apartment. He spends the first night without the white bear, but unpacks it first thing the next day, because he'd woken up holding his pillow with his head dropped awkwardly back onto the mattress. He hasn't done something like that since childhood, and it feels kind of ridiculous, but if unpacking the white bear means he doesn't wake up with a neck ache, he'll do it.

The seventh bear shows up sometime during his house warming party. Mike goes back to his room to change shirts after spilling a drink on himself and finds a little black bear in a blue sweater seated next to white bear, which Mike swears he'd put in his closet earlier. He laughs and leaves them where they are.

The eight bear is in his guest room the next time he goes in there. It's the same as the seventh bear, only it's dark brown with a little orange sweater, and it matches the room perfectly. Mike picks it up and sits with it on the bed for a minute, looking at it, and then tucks it neatly between the pillows, holding down the fort. Brooks stays over while his own place is getting some renovations done, and Mike makes sure that the teddy bear is seated prominently on the guest room bed. He checks in on Brooks one night when he's been out late with the guys and finds himself standing in the doorway, staring at Brooks and the teddy bear, which is held firmly against Brooks's chest. It makes Mike smile, even as something inside him kind of aches at the sight. Eventually, he decides he's being creepy and goes to his own room, but he can't help but laugh when he curls up in bed with his own bears, wondering what people would say if they could see the two Caps players now. Some manly men they are.

The ninth bear shows up the night after they lose out of the playoffs. It's soft, and big enough to hug comfortably, and Mike will never admit this to anyone, but he holds the bear and cries for a while, frustration and disappointment and anger overwhelming him.

The tenth bear is huge. By the time it shows up, Mike's kind of wondering if the bear thing is over, because he hasn't gotten one in months, and, well, he'd kind of gotten used to the bears arriving regularly. Then again, he's been in Calgary for the summer, and it's kind of hard to sneak bears into a house from a province away. Then one day Mike opens his door to find a delivery guy standing there with a large box, asking for Mike's signature. There's no return address on the box, but there is a giant, squishy teddy bear inside. Mike has to use both arms to pick it up and haul it into his house, where he plunks it down on the living room floor and tries to figure out what to do with a four foot high teddy bear. In the end, he just puts it in the window seat of his room, where it can watch over him while he sleeps.

It's strange how relieved he feels about the arrival of the bear. He's had more than enough time to think about the whole thing over the summer--a year and a half of bears, fitting into his life until he's worried that they'll _stop_. It should feel weird. It does, when he thinks about it too hard. This is the kind of thing a guy does for his girlfriend, not his friend and teammate. Mike should have been cool with the bears stopping, happy enough to write them off as a weird joke that got out of hand, but instead he'd felt, well. Sad.

Mike's not great at thinking about his feelings, but he forces himself to sort these ones out. It's been long enough that he can't write the whole thing off as some sort of ridiculous joke, and serious enough that he thinks that maybe there's more to this from Brooks's end of things than Mike's been willing to realize. There's the bear with the heart, for one; it's sitting on the TV stand here, brought with him from Virginia because he'd felt bad leaving it behind. Most of the bears are here, actually; the guest room bear, its twin, Gary, and the first bear are holding down the fort back at the penthouse. The rest have all been reassigned to their new location for the summer, which had gotten him some strange looks from his friends and family. He's managed to write them off as being gifts from someone important to him, but that had just gotten his mother asking him questions about whether he's finally seeing someone new. The way he'd failed to answer had been a pretty big sign that he should probably sit down and think about this whole thing. He _likes_ getting the bears. He likes knowing they're from Brooks. They make him smile. They make him feel special. Finding a new one makes him feel warm inside, the way getting a present from his girlfriend had made him feel warm inside. In fact, it's almost exactly that feeling. He wonders how Brooks feels when he finds the right bear. The bears themselves are a testament to how much effort Brooks must be putting into this; they aren't just generic dollar store toys. He wonders if maybe Brooks feels the way Mike's starting to think he feels. He wonders if he's up to finding out.

The next day he takes the bear down from the window, sits down with it, rests his chin on the bear's head, and takes a photo with his phone. He hesitates a minute before sending it to Brooks, but in the end, if nothing else, he kind of wants to say, hey, thanks. He doesn't get a text in reply, but a few days later there's a knock at his door and Brooks is there, a suitcase behind him and a bear in his hands.

"Hi," Brooks says when Mike opens the door. He looks nervous, the way Mike feels, all butterflies and nausea and something that might be hope buried deep inside.

"Hi," Mike says.

Brooks holds out the bear, awkwardly, and Mike takes it and stands in the doorway, staring at it, until Brooks shuffles a little on his steps and Mike realizes that he's blocking the way into the house.

"Sorry, sorry," he says, and backs up, letting Brooks in.

"Um, sorry for showing up without warning," Brooks says. "I just--I was in the area. Province. ...country." He pauses. "I wanted to see you."

"It's cool," Mike says, smiling. He's still holding the bear. It's soft and worn, not new like the rest. He can see some bare patches and places it's been stitched up. This is a bear that has been well-loved. "Brooks--" he starts, but he doesn't know what to say, so he chickens out and says, "have you eaten?"

"Not since breakfast," Brooks says.

They eat lunch in Mike's kitchen. The conversation is banal, but comfortingly so: the flight, family, the weather, Mike's disorganized kitchen. It almost feels normal, except that sometimes there are awkward pauses when Mike wants to ask things he doesn't want to ask. There's also the bear, whom Mike has seated on the end of the table. He doesn't look at it during lunch, but he can feel it watching them.

"So," he says, later, after the dishes have been cleared away and they've moved to the couch. The bear has come with them, carried by Brooks with an easy familiarity that makes Mike wonder. "Uh." He really doesn't know how to start this conversation, mostly because he doesn't know what this conversation _is_. The bears? Them? Both?

"Look, about the bears," Brooks says, looking down at the one he's holding. Mike thinks about grabbing one of the ones scattered around his house, because he could really use something to clutch awkwardly, but getting up seems like a bad idea.

"I like the bears," Mike says, after a minute of uncomfortable silence. Brooks looks up at him and smiles a little. "Good," he says. "I just--I got the first one as a joke, and then I saw that you'd actually kept it, and I ran across the second one a little later, and figured, why not?" He pauses and shrugs. "And then I just kept going. It's fun, keeping an eye out for them."

"I like them," Mike says, and then realizes he's already said that and flushes. "I mean--it's nice, it was nice, finding them unexpectedly."

"It was fun sneaking into your place to hide them," Brooks says. He looks down at the one he's holding. "This is Beary. Don't laugh--" even though Mike's not going to-- "I've had him since I was a kid. He's been at my parents' place for the last few years, but I thought, maybe he could..." Brooks looks up, shrugs, and gives Mike a self-conscious grin. "Hang out here? With some friends?"

Brooks sounds casual, but Mike's watching his hands, the way they're clenched against the bear--against Beary--and Mike's not always great at reading between the lines, but even if he can't figure out what he's supposed to be reading, he knows there's something else there. His stomach does a flip, lunch not sitting so well, and he swallows dryly and doesn't look up.

"OK, or--not," Brooks says. Mike realizes that he's taking Mike's silence the wrong way.

"No, no, that--that's cool," Mike says, and reaches out to touch Beary, covering Brooks's hand with his own without even thinking about it.

They freeze there, both of them. Mike feels like his brain's fallen out of gear, his thoughts stalled and grinding and useless, even though all that he's done is touch Brooks's hand. It's not anything new, but it _feels_ new.

"Mike," Brooks says, desperately, breaking the moment, and Mike can hear it in his voice, everything that he hasn't been able to figure out so far, laid out in his name.

Mike just looks up at him and says, "You bought me teddy bears, Brooksy," helplessly, because he might be a little slow in getting there, but he thinks he's got it figured out now.

"I--yeah," Brooks says. He looks like Mike feels. "I bought you teddy bears."

And that's it. Mike picks up Beary from Brooks's hands, gently, and puts him on the side table, and then he shifts over until he's right up in Brooks's space. He's not sure which of them leans in first, but the kiss is inevitable at this point; who actually starts it is immaterial. Brooks's lips are warm and soft and dry, and Mike feels everything fall into place.

He pulls back, just far enough that he can look Brooks in the eye, and says, "You do realize I'm not a teenage girl, right?"

Brooks laughs. "You sure about that?" he asks. "Because--"

Mike kisses him so hard they both lose their balance, Brooks toppling backwards against the armrest, Mike landing sprawled on top of him. Brooks is still laughing into the kiss, but it's fond laughter, and he brings a hand up to cup the back of Mike's neck. Mike shifts until he's a little more comfortable, hips framed by Brooks's legs, and any awkwardness fades away in the face of how damn good this feels. The kiss is soft, even as it deepens, but there's an undercurrent to it, hot and electric, and Mike thinks, _oh_ , because he hadn't even known how much he'd wanted this--wanted _Brooks_ \--until he'd gotten it. Now he wonders why it's taken so long. "Fuck," he says, against Brooks's mouth, and kisses him again.

"Mike," Brooks says, the second time they break apart. "Are we--"

"Are you _really_ trying to talk this out right now?" Mike asks, because, seriously, they can talk later. He has about a year and a half of making out to make up for, and he's not going to get derailed now.

"Yes," Brooks says, firmly, and Mike sighs. Brooks is probably right. Brooks is _usually_ right. He just wishes that Brooks had chosen to be right _after_ they'd gotten in some quality making out.

"Stop pouting," Brooks says, laughing, and kisses Mike, quickly enough that Mike doesn't have a chance to push it further and distract him from talking. "We really should talk."

"Fine," Mike says, and sits back so he will actually pay attention.

Brooks is looking at him affectionately, eyes blue and warm and Mike wonders why he's never noticed before just how much he likes Brooks's eyes. Or his mouth, which is distractingly pink. Or, well. Him. Mike really feels like it's unfair how slow he's been to realize these things.

"I don't want this to be a one night stand kind of thing," Brooks says, and Mike snaps back into paying attention, because this is _serious_.

"I'm not going to make a long speech about my feelings or anything, but if you're looking for a rebound or a casual thing, then this stops now, and I'm going to get up and leave." Brooks pauses. "You can keep the bears, in that case, but--"

"No, stay," Mike says. He hasn't had time to think this through, not the way Brooks obviously has, but--he knows what he wants, and what he wants is Brooks.

"Are you sure?" Brooks asks. He's looking at Mike with this look that's half-hope, half-worry. "Because this isn't going to be easy."

"I'm sure," Mike says. "And I know." He does know. They're going to have to keep this a secret, at _least_ until they're out of the League, and maybe past that. They'll have to watch themselves every minute they're together around people, because this is not something that can come out. It'll suck. Mike knows that, knows that even without thinking everything through. He also knows that it'll be worth it.

"Okay," Brooks says, and then, "Okay," again. He takes a deep breath and suddenly smiles, bright and happy, and Mike's chest aches with it even as he grins back.

"So--" he says, hopefully, and Brooks tugs him back down to make out with him some more, arms wrapped warm around Mike, one hand brushing against the hair at the base of Mike's neck. Mike shivers and bites Brooks's lip a little to make him moan. It's the best sound Mike's ever heard, better even than the roar of the crowd or the buzzer after a goal, soft and quiet and _so real_. Mike had been thinking of taking things a little slowly, getting used to this shift in their relationship, but he's hard as soon as he hears that moan, and he knows that they aren't going to go slow, not this time. They have an entire future to go slow, and Mike fully plans to take advantage of that, but right now he wants _more_.

"Brooksy," he says, and gets too distracted by the way Brooks's tongue feels in his mouth to say anything more. He whines and presses his hips down against Brooks.

"We should," Brooks breaks off, breathing hard, "not do this on the couch. Or in front of Beary."

Mike glances back to see the bear, feeling inexplicably guilty. Beneath him, Brooks laughs, breathless and warm.

"Bedroom?" Mike suggests, sitting up. Brooks nods, and they make it to the door with minimal interruptions for more kissing. "Did you bring _all of them_ with you?" Brooks asks as he walks into Mike's room, staring at the white bear. It's sitting on Mike's pillow, where it always is during the day.

Mike feels his cheeks heat up. "No," he says. "Just--a few of them." He walks over to the bed and picks up the white bear, then pauses, not sure what to do with it.

Brooks takes the bear from him and walks back out to the living room, where he puts it next to Beary. Mike watches him glance around the room and take in the other bears before he comes back. "I'm glad you like them," he says, kissing Mike on the corner of his mouth. Mike feels warm and melty inside and realizes that he is a lot further gone than he'd thought he was.

"I like _you_ ," he says, honestly, and Brooks looks a little stunned and a lot pleased. "I mean, I like the bears, they're cute--don't tell anyone I said that, ever--but I like them more because they came from you."

"Good," Brooks says, and pulls Mike close to kiss him. It's light at first, and sweet, but they're both past that already, and it's not long before they're both lost in it.

Somehow they manage to stumble over to the bed. Mike breaks the kiss long enough to scramble out of his shirt and jeans and help Brooks out of his, fingers fumbling with his belt. It's been a long time since Mike was this excited and nervous about taking someone to bed. He's surprised at how good it feels.

Brooks's hands are rough and warm against Mike's skin as they slide down his sides to encircle his waist. Mike actually has to lean up a little to kiss him now that they're both standing, and when he leans closer, he can feel Brooks, hard and hot against his thigh. It makes Mike shiver and pull Brooks tight against him, wanting the feel of skin on skin even as they can't stop kissing. Brooks digs his fingers into Mike's back and Mike moans at the pressure, breaks the kiss to pant against Brooks's shoulder.

"Fuck, Mike," Brooks says, kissing Mike's neck. "I want..."

He trails off, but Mike gets it, and pulls them both down, somehow managing not to crush himself under Brooks. He can't stop touching Brooks, hands sliding along his back, his sides, his shoulders, his face. They're both hard, pressed up against each other, and every time one of them shifts they both gasp. It reminds Mike of the best parts of being in high school, new and a little overwhelming and pretty much the best thing ever.

It takes some doing before they're both naked, trying to keep kissing and touching even as they shed their underwear, and they're both laughing by the time they manage it, sightly entangled and giddy.

"I swear I'm smoother than this most of the time," Brooks says, burying his face in Mike's neck. "I blame you."

"Totally my fault," Mike agrees. He'd agree to take the blame for just about anything so long as Brooks keeps licking his neck like that. Especially if he can also grab Brooks's ass at the same time.

"Mm," Brooks says, and stops to look at Mike, mouth curling up at the corners. "Can I suck you off?"

Mike's hips jerk up of their own accord. He may squeak. He isn't sure. He doesn't care.

"Uh, _yes_ ," he says. "How--should I--"

Brooks laughs at him, then leans in and kisses him to make him stop asking stupid half-questions. Mike relaxes into the kiss and lets Brooks take over, watches as Brooks kisses down his chest, nuzzles his bellybutton, and--stops.

Mike waits. Brooks looks up at him, face unreadable, just above Mike's dick, which would really like some attention.

"Please?" Mike hazards, hoping that Brooks is just waiting for him to be polite or something. And either that was it or Brooks gets over whatever it was, because Brooks ducks his head and licks Mike's cock, and Mike wants to watch, he does, but he can't even keep his eyes open. He drops his head back against his pillow and tries not to say anything embarrassing.

Brooks is good at this, good enough that Mike has some serious questions for later about Brooks's life before this. Right now, though, he's just thankful for it, hips arching up as Brooks takes him down, swallows around him, mouth hot and wet and the grip he has on the base of Mike's dick just tight enough to be perfect. Mike reaches down blindly, needing to touch Brooks, and tangles their fingers together, holding on tightly enough that it hurts. He's panting and moaning and Brooks is just taking him apart, mouth and tongue and hand.

Soon enough, he's on the edge of coming, breath coming in gasps, free hand clutching at his bed.

"Fuck, fuck, Brooksy," he says, and Brooks pulls off and sits up, making Mike whine. "Don't _stop_."

"I want to watch you," Brooks says, his voice low and hot and Mike opens his eyes and almost comes just from the way Brooks sounds, the words he's saying. Mike had never thought he'd hear Brooks like this, but it goes straight to his dick, and all he manages is a low, desperate noise before Brooks wraps a hand around him and jerks him off.

Mike comes with a yelp, come splashing across his stomach and Brooks's hand, startlingly hot against his skin. He manages to get his eyes half-open and sit up again just long enough to see Brooks lick Mike's come off his fingers, at which point he gives up and collapses backwards with a groan. There should be a rule about what can happen when he's too wrung out to do anything about it.

"C'mere," he slurs, and flails weakly towards Brooks until he's pressed up against Mike's side. Mike turns his head and kisses Brooks, tastes himself in Brooks's mouth and finds it hot.

Brooks is still hard against his hip and Mike reaches down and touches him for the first time, a little tentative but he _wants this_. It's a little strange, touching someone else's dick, but Mike watches the way Brooks's eyes grow dark and hot and unfocused and thinks that he could get used to this. He drinks it all in, the sounds Brooks is making, soft and needy against Mike's side, the slick feeling of precome on his palm, the way Brooks looks right now, flushed and open and _wanting_. It's not long before Brooks is coming, kissing Mike just as he does so, the sounds he makes muffled by Mike's mouth.

Mike thinks about licking his fingers and decides he's not quite there yet, wiping them on his bedspread instead. Brooks just lies against him, catching his breath, one arm thrown over Mike possessively. It's a nice feeling.

"Good thing we moved the bear," Brooks says, sleepily. "He would have been traumatized."

Mike laughs and curls closer to Brooks. "Mm," he agrees. "Can't have that."

There's a long silence, but it's the peaceful kind, not awkward. Mike's half-dozing when Brooks speaks again.

"I can't believe I bought you teddy bears," he says. "Why the hell did I think that was the best choice, here?"

"It worked, didn't it?" Mike points out, nuzzling Brooks's shoulder. "I like them."

"We should name them," Brooks says, dreamily.

"Later," Mike says.

"Later," Brooks agrees. There's a pause. "You know I'm going to have to get you a teddy bear for every anniversary now, right?" Something warm sparks inside Mike at the thought of anniversaries and a future together, teddy bears and all.

"Looking forward to it," Mike says.

He means it.


End file.
